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Sheila Deeth
, May 14, 2014
(view all comments by Sheila Deeth)
Sometimes the truth is in the space between words, and things unsaid reveal more than the question and answers of conversation. Alice Munro’s Dear Life reveals lives, and their secrets, with that same sort of protective silence. Natural conversations, with natural pauses, create the sense of character, time and place. Too little, revealed, keeps the reader searching for more. Then one small slip and the truth will out; the actor slides himself between the lines; the mask falls aside; and what we thought we almost knew is changed... just like in real, dear life.
The writing’s spare, convincing, and unemotional, with the tension of genuine need, and the beauty of Canada’s landscapes underneath. Wounded souls have lived through war or privation. Those who’ve kept their emotions reigned in take a step, make a decision, and move on. Betrayal might be ignored, trust broken and restored. Or else the one who cannot stand will find another place. And all these people, the invisible of their land, demand their space, their moment on the page.
Sometimes what happens is so small, and its impact so huge, it takes a story to tell it. Alice Munro tells these short stories and lives with masterful precision, voice, and perception, as sure in telling her own past as in revealing the paths of others. Dear Life is a song of life, chance and hope, and a fine collection of intriguing people and stories.
Disclosure: We chose it for our book group.
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